I got my first dog at 13 and had to put him down when I was 27. I will always remember what the vet told me, he said that you own him this as much as those first shots when he was a puppy. It isn’t easy for you but you are doing what is right for the animal who puts all of his trust in you.

This is sad news. I don’t why, but sometimes I feel worse about nice doggies leaving us than people I know. I think it has something to do with their unconditional love and unflagging general happiness to see us.

Lift some weights, eat some chocolate, listen to some King Crimson (or Stravinsky, or whatever) and remember the happy moments. Those aren’t going anywhere.

Don’t hit, kemibe, embrace. When you are able, love your neighbor as you were loved by the dog.

I share your sorrow in the names of Ol’ Puddin, Zipper and Buttons, Gypsy, T’chaka and Mercury, Bad Eye and Big ‘Un, Ol’ Pete, Whitey P.Dog, TriStar, Bear, Nika and that huge shepherd/wolf cross that gave me an unexpected fright that was really a welcome! You’re in good company. Probably a pup in your distant future just because, well, you used to like to have a dog around the place . . .

I know, man. Doggone dogs. Where do they get off thinking they can teach us anything of value?

Dr. Joan Bushwell's Chimpanzee Refuge

Doc Bushwell is busy with other activities but continues to lend a moniker to this backwater of a blog. Jim is an engineering professor with a fondness for running shoes and drumsticks; and Kevin Beck is a self-exiled member of the clan who refuses to stay gone.